


All the Ghouls Come Out to Play

by onetruealpha



Series: All the King's Horses [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate events to Echo House, Brunski is creepier than Peter Hale, F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malia Tate is also creepy, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con Elements, Scott and Lydia take care of Stiles, help what have I done, otherwise canon compliant, post 3b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1668140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onetruealpha/pseuds/onetruealpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Lydia and Stiles struggle to deal with things. They're struggling more than they actually realize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Ghouls Come Out to Play

It’s been six weeks since the nogitsune died. Since Isaac and Chris Argent left for France. Since Allison’s death. Since. _Since._

He’s sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria. His color has come back, the circles under his eyes not as prominent but still visible. He’s regained a couple of pounds, though his dad and Melissa are both still worried that he’s lost too much weight. They’re worried that he’s still not sleeping well. That he still wakes with nightmares even if he doesn’t scream himself awake these days. 

He knows that Scott is just as worried. That Lydia is too. They’ve been sticking close to him as much as possible. He’s rarely ever alone. It makes it difficult for him to hide things he doesn’t want to think about. 

It makes it easy for him not to think about those things as much as he does when he _is_ alone. 

“Hi.” Lydia sits down across from him with a small smile that no longer reaches her eyes anymore. Her hair is pinned up in a braided bun. She’s taken to wearing darker clothes lately, and these days she’s as likely to wear pants as she is to wear skirts. It’s easier to run in pants even if she still wears high heels every day. 

“Hi,” he greets, returning her smile with one of his own that doesn’t reach his eyes either. 

“What’d you bring today?” she asks curiously, peering at his brown bagged lunch. 

Silently he holds up an apple and a couple of cheese sticks. 

She sighs. “It’s not very much.” Her tone is worried rather than disappointed. “You’re keeping it down now, right?” 

Stiles winces, but nods. For the first couple of weeks after he was puked up by a Japanese fox demon, he hadn’t been able to keep down much of anything he ate. 

“Good. Baby steps are good.” She pushes a baggie of baby carrot sticks over to him. “You need vegetables, too.” 

He watches her for a second, then takes one from the baggie, popping the whole thing in his mouth without argument. 

She nods in satisfaction and opens her physics book beside her on the table.

Stiles takes a bite of his apple, pausing mid-chew when he catches sight of a familiar brunette as she sits down at the next table. Against his will, their gazes meet and he feels his stomach twist into a knot, appetite gone. She smiles but it’s more like a smirk, all teeth and no warmth in her eyes. He can hear her words in his head. _Aren’t you glad you helped_ save _me, Stiles?_

Sensing something is off, Lydia glances up and looks over, following his gaze to Malia Tate. She arches an eyebrow, pursing her lips and then turning to look at him once more. “I don’t like her,” she announces, not really caring if Malia can hear her or not. There’s something not right about the girl and it unsettles everything inside of her. 

This time he doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah,” he agrees. 

She studies him critically for a long moment, frown settling on her lips. He isn’t himself anymore. He hasn’t been for a long time. Since even before the possession, before the nemeton sacrifices. He hasn’t been quite the same since that night at the Glen Capri when Scott nearly lit himself on fire. 

As if he can hear her thoughts, Scott makes his appearance then, dropping down just to the right of Stiles with a barely there smile. “Hey guys,” he greets. He sounds tired even if he doesn’t look it. They’re all tired these days. 

She offers him a small smile but doesn’t answer. 

“Hey,” Stiles says back, and Lydia watches the way he leans into Scott’s side just a little. Just enough for contact but not enough to seem out of place. Not enough to draw attention to anyone who isn’t really paying attention. She notes the way that Scott leans back the same amount, the way they function as a unit. A team. The way they are constantly in sync. 

She misses Allison terribly and she looks down and takes a bite of yogurt. “Meredith called me this morning.” 

“Is she okay?” Scott asks, more worry clouding his brown eyes.

Lydia nods. “She wants me to come see her after school. I was kind of hoping you guys would come with me.” It’s a lot to ask and she knows it. She doesn’t want to go back there either. But this is Meredith, her friend. 

Stiles’ gaze immediately drops to his apple and he swallows heavily. 

Scott feels Stiles tense beside him, and he knows how hard it is to even think about any of them going back to Eichen House after Allison. He knows that even though it isn’t Stiles’ fault, Stiles will always feel like it is. He shifts slightly to his left, their sides pressed together because he senses that Stiles needs the contact. _Scott_ needs the contact. 

“I’ll come with you,” Scott tells Lydia, wanting to ease the pressure off Stiles. 

“Me too,” Stiles says almost instantly and they both look at him, Lydia with something akin to surprise and Scott with more than a sense of vague worry this time. 

“After school then,” Lydia agrees after a few moments of silence. 

________

Even as a visitor, Stiles feels suffocated just walking down the long dimly lit corridors of Eichen House. There’s no way he could do this if it weren’t for the strawberry blonde girl on his left, and the brunette boy on his right. He’s not even sure when they began walking this way but it’s become habit for all of them anytime they are out together. Stiles is always in the center even though it should probably have been Scott since he was the alpha, or Lydia, since she was the only girl. 

Though they’re there with him, he feels a cold chill creep up his spine, feels his heartbeat quicken in his chest and Scott’s turning his head to look at him, and the familiar warmth and concern in his best friend’s eyes is somehow both relieving and painful at the same time. It’s how almost everything feels these days.

Lydia’s hand slides into his and he curls his fingers around hers wordlessly, some of the tightness in his chest easing. 

“I’m here to see Meredith,” Lydia tells the woman at the front desk. A woman who Stiles vaguely recognizes but cannot recall her name. 

“Only one at a time,” she tells Lydia, who doesn’t look pleased by this news even if she’s not surprised, either. 

“We’ll wait,” Scott tells her, because Stiles is currently incapable of speech as his eyes sweep the room and he spots Brunski in the corner, speaking with a couple of orderlies. 

The woman leads Lydia away from Scott and Stiles and Scott glances at him curiously but says nothing. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” Stiles tells him. Before Scott can respond, he heads away quickly down the hall and into the men’s bathroom on the left, throwing up the apple and cheese sticks and single carrot he’d eaten at lunch into the toilet and flushing as he kneels on the ground, panting. 

He tenses when he hears the door open but he figures it’s Scott coming to check on him because that’s _Scott_. 

“Well. Mr. Stilinski. Didn’t think I’d see _you_ here again so soon,” the familiar voice drawls and he can hear the man’s smug smirk in his tone and Stiles closes his eyes wishing he’d just thrown up in the waiting room. “It’s a nice surprise. For me.” Brunski is standing behind him now. 

“Leave me alone,” Stiles whispers, nausea sweeping over him again. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” 

He shudders as he feels the man’s fingertips trailing over the back of his neck, the blunt nails digging lightly into his skin. 

The door opens again and he hears Scott’s voice and he wants to cry. “Stiles? Are you okay?” 

________

Something is really wrong. More wrong than Scott initially assumed at lunch, but when he hears Stiles getting sick, and he sees the orderly -- whom he’s had the displeasure of seeing once before, at school, after he was tased by Coach -- head into the bathroom, too, he’s moving before he can think about it. Even from the distance he hears the rapid beating of Stiles’ heart, hears the near taunting sound of Brunski’s voice talking to Stiles and tension coils within Scott’s body. 

He shoves the door open. “Stiles? Are you okay?” 

Brunski turns from where he’s standing just outside an open stall, arching an eyebrow. “Your friend’s sick,” he informs him. There are no doors on the stalls and he thinks that’s both disturbing and creepy. 

And so is Brunski. 

Scott narrows his eyes at the man. “I’ll take care of him,” he informs the man, voice firm and full of warning. 

A smirk tugs at the man’s lips. “I’m sure you will.” He heads for the door and Scott hears Stiles getting sick again and his own stomach tightens into a knot of anxiety that he hasn’t quite figured out yet. He hesitantly moves into the stall with his best friend, laying a hand on his back as he kneels beside him.

“Stiles?” he whispers. “You okay?” He watches his best friend shudder and he’s not sure if it’s from the violence of throwing up or something else. 

“No. I’m not,” he says after a long moment.

And Scott is afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> My first TW fic. I haven't written in ages. I hope this isn't terrible. I struggle with Lydia's voice especially. This part alludes to things that happened to Stiles at Echo House without going into actual detail. But it's heavily alluded to, and might be triggering, hence the warnings.


End file.
